


Fragile Dreams

by FernStone



Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Angst, Book Spoilers, Family Loss, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts, Introspection, Loneliness, Loss of Parent(s), Lyra's World (His Dark Materials), Post-Canon, Sad, Song Lyrics, The Amber Spyglass Spoilers, Thinking About Everyone Gone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22334734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FernStone/pseuds/FernStone
Summary: It was as if a floodgate had been opened to let everything burst free. It crashed through her mind and ran down her face as tears slipped free.And it was just Lyra and Pan, Pan and Lyra, as it had always been.
Relationships: Lord Asriel & Lyra Belacqua, Lyra Belacqua & Lee Scoresby, Lyra Belacqua & Pantalaimon, Lyra Belacqua & Roger Parslow, Lyra Belacqua/Will Parry
Comments: 14
Kudos: 49





	Fragile Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [Fragile Dreams](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OynDG3MkXAk) by Anathema. I would recommend listening to it while reading
> 
> Happy Dadriel Saturday :P 
> 
> This one hurts, sorry in advance

_Today I introduced myself_  
_To my own feelings_

Lyra was fifteen when she realised how alone she was.

There wasn't a day that went by when she didn't miss Will. It was a constant dull ache in her chest that she carried everywhere she went. It was a pain she shared with Pan, one that haunted her days and nights like an eternal ghost. But she had grown used to it. And she held hope that one day she'd meet him again.

No, it truly hit her one cold evening when she found an old leather-bound book she'd never been able to throw out. Everything in her screamed to put it back on the shelf but against her better judgment she took it and sat on her bed. Her hands gently stroked the cover and Pan came to lie against her, observing the book carefully.

She opened it.

 _To Lyra,_ the first line read. _So that you do not keep pestering the Scholars about how to survive in the North._

The handwriting was a scrawled cursive, something she may have struggled to read if she hadn't known it so well.

Lord Asriel's writing. Her Father's.

She remembered how she'd bothered the scholars every day to teach her of the North. To tell her how to hunt for food, how to navigate and survive. And she'd pestered him to. So for her eight birthday he had gifted her this journal of his own notes. How she'd treasured it as a child. It told her everything she'd wanted to know. Of course, she didn't need it anymore. She'd been to the North and had no inclination to go back.

But she couldn't bring herself to get rid of it.

It was all she had left of him.

"It still smells like her," Pan whispered softly, solemnly. He crawled into her lap and rubbed against her for comfort. For both of them.

Lyra blinked as her previously clear mind flooded with feelings. Both her own and his. It was as if a floodgate had been opened to let everything burst free. It crashed through her mind and ran down her face as tears slipped free.

Drip, drip, drip. Tears fell on worn parchment. A stain across already fading ink. A reminder. It crinkled under her fingers as she tightened her grip. She should just throw it out, burn it and get rid of every last trace of that man from her life. Let the anger course through her and cleanse her of these painful feelings.

_She hated him._

He'd never been there for her. He'd flickered through her life, leaving a sharp impression that made her long for more. Yet he never gave her that. She got a few days every couple of months at most. A single meeting, with questions of her lessons and scolding for all she did wrong. There were good moments too. He carried her to bed a few times and praised her. He’d encouraged her to explore the catacombs beneath the college.

But he had never been there when she needed him. She was always an afterthought. It was all about his research, himself first.

She ripped out a page, hissing out a breath and crumpling it in her hand. She hesitated as she considered throwing it into the fire burning merrily in the hearth. Pan dug his claws into her thighs, enough to hurt them both a little. It shocked her out of her rage and she dropped the page, letting it roll across the floor. Pan moved to cling to her chest and she let one hand move away from the journal to grip his fur.

Stabilising herself. Stabilising him. They both clung to each other as they tried to navigate the whirling vortex of emotions crashing against them. The push and pull between anger and grief, the want to hug the journal close to her as if it was him or to destroy it until there was nothing left.

She wanted him gone.

_She hated him._

"He killed Roger," she choked out, pulling her knees to her chest. "He killed him, he killed my best friend."

It became a mantra in her mind. For it had been at that moment she had cut loose any ties to him. She had truly become Lyra Silvertongue, not Belacqua. She discarded his name and him. She'd held Roger's still warm body against her and vowed revenge.

She'd never gotten it.

Her father had sacrificed himself before she even saw him again.

"How dare he," she hissed, fingers clenching the bedsheets beside her. "How dare he die before I got to... I got to tell him..."

She stopped, choking back a sob.

Before she told him all the thoughts that flooded through her mind. How she abhorred him. How she never wanted to be associated with him. He had killed and killed for such a hopeless cause. One that had barely succeeded. The balance had been restored but at what cost?

The cost of everyone Lyra had ever held dear. The cost of Lyra's heart. It had been ripped from her chest and scattered to the wind, just as the dust had flown back into the world. It had taken every piece of her.

All she had now was Pan.

She hoped he thought it was worth it, as he fell for all eternity. The thought raked through her mind, leaving dark wounds that seeped out as tears. He would never reach the land of the dead and be released. He was there, just falling, alone but for Stelmaria and her mother.

What a horrible fate. One she wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Especially not her father, no matter how many terrible things he’d done. It only made her more angry. Surely there must have been a better way? He had never even hesitated. He hadn’t thought of what he was leaving behind.

Hadn’t thought of her and how much damage it would cause to her already fragile heart.

_She hated him._

"Why does it hurt, Pan?" she buried her face into her fur.

"I don't know," he whimpered. "I feel it, but I don't know."

"He never showed any affection toward me. He was always so cold. He killed Roger, he waged a war and dragged me and Will into it. He didn't even apologise before he died. Why does the thought of him hurt so much?! Why..."

"He cared for you," Pan mumbled against her. "They cared for us."

Lyra sniffed, the words washing over her as her hot anger fell away. It had held so long only to be swept away by another, much more crushing feeling.

Grief. A horrible sense of emptiness and sadness that she had yet to let herself feel. Not for him. Especially not for him. She didn't need to, she had told herself. He was nothing to her.

But he was everything to her.

He was her father. It didn't matter that he had never tried to properly fulfill that role. She realised now it had been to protect her. It had always been to protect her. And he had tried his hardest at it even when she hadn’t realised it. Even as she travelled through the land of the dead, even as she disobeyed every order he had given her. Even his last act, a final stand against destiny and all he had fought for.

It had all been for her, in a way.

He had cared, as much as she wanted to deny that. She'd always known. But she'd been too angry to accept it.

But now the anger was gone and all that was left was the long running sorrow of her loss. It made it hurt so much more.

Now she would never have a chance to get that affection she had craved. She couldn't tell him of all the adventures she'd had through the multiverse. No more stories of his exploration, deep voice lulling her beside a fire complemented by Stelmaria's silky tones. He would never tuck her into bed and give her that disapproving look when she asked to see something disgusting.

She missed him so horribly it felt as if a hand was clutching her heart, squeezing. Their moments together had been so short. But he had been the one constant in her life. His infrequent visits had given her joy and something to look forward to. He’d given her a goal throughout her difficult journey.

Even when that goal had been against him.

She’d always wanted to be like him even long before she knew he was her father. She’d always told everyone she would be an explorer just like him. She’d make groundbreaking discoveries. If he’d survived, then maybe she would’ve. They could go North together and watch the aurora. Or maybe travel to different, equally exotic places. It was a future full of adventure. So unlike the one she had, filled with emptiness and wandering lost towards a dream she didn’t even have.

They could have done so much together, if only they had talked.

And now the chance of that was all gone. Shattered just like her.

_She loved him._

_In silent agony, after all these years_  
_They spoke to me after all these years_

"I miss him," Lyra whispered as the sobs wracked through her body. The journal sat beside her and she lay curled around Pan, who had slipped inside her shirt to press against her skin. "I miss them."

"Me too."

"I miss everyone." Tear's clung to her cheeks, drying and cracking. "Why us? Why did we have to survive? Why do we have to be alone?"

She blinked away the water than still tried to creep out the corners of her eyes.

"I wish..." she shook her head and shivered. Pan murmured softly against her skin, shaking the thoughts out of her head. They wouldn't go there.

_She wished that Roger was still here._

She saw him in every corridor and watched his ghost run along the roofs as she sat there in mourning. She imagined that he truly was there, his dust forming part of the air that swirled around the places they had once played. He was always in the corner of her eye whenever she visited Jordan, wide grin lighting up a freckled face. She caught constant glimpses of him.

She rarely visited Jordan College anymore. It was too painful. She only ever went to visit her old room, wrapping herself in blankets and memories of a time long gone. She tried to grasp at the fleeting things as if she could relive them. As if she could rewind time and pretend none of it ever happened.

It reminded her of a time when things had been so much easier. Happier. She couldn't remember the last time she had truly felt that. Now she floated through life, from one day to the next without really existing.

But she never let herself dwell on her grief. She had felt the dark stain within her chest but had pushed it down and away. Out of sight.

Don't cry, Lyra, you're stronger than that.

It was a mantra to herself throughout the long nights, ridden with nightmares, and the days filled with glimpses of people long gone.

It wasn't until now that she had allowed herself to look at it. To think about all the feelings she'd tried to keep locked away. She had known it was eating away at her, eating away at Pan, but she hadn't had the strength.

They hadn't had the strength.

"Roger..." she murmured softly, as Pan whispered Sacilia over and over against her skin. She choked down another sob and let it shake through her, not quite coming to fruition.

"We failed him. Them. We didn't stop him. If only we'd stopped him then none of this would've happened. We wouldn't be..." she sobbed again.

"We wouldn't be alone," Pan finished for her, voice low and mournful. He peered up at her with solemn eyes.

If he could cry she was sure he would've.

She'd cried plenty for them both.

"They'd want us to be happy."

"I know," Lyra wiped away the every flowing tears and brought her face against his warm fur. "But it's so hard. He should be here with us."

She knew she would always carry the heavy guilt and regret with her. It didn't matter that she had seen him once more and freed him to be one with the world. It didn’t matter that she’d apologised. She could have stopped his death. If only she had been faster. If only she had questioned Lord Asriel. If only she had truly listened to what he said.

If only, if only, if only.

It didn't stop the pain in her chest or the emptiness of her heart from the lack of his presence in her world.

_She wished she had seen Lee again._

It had been like the world stopped when she found out he was dead.

Some part of her hadn't accepted it. Had expected his airship to appear any moment, for him to step out all grins and quips and Hester sighing. But Iorek would never lie. She'd had to accept it.

The last she'd seen of him had been his outstretched hand and look of intense fear as she tumbled into the sky.

There was no conflict in her feelings for him. He had truly been more of a father to her in that journey than Lord Asriel had been in her life. She loved him unconditionally as she knew he loved her. She had always thought they would be reunited again. In her mind he had always been there, in her future, from the moment they met.

Until the moment she found out he was gone.

He had died fighting, she'd been told. Gone down with a gun in his hand. It had made a smile flicker across her lips even through the tears. He wouldn't have wanted to go in some boring way, as much as he talked about money and wanting to retire.

She knew he'd enjoyed the thrill of adventure.

He'd died protecting Grumman... John Parry. The man who had healed Will, who had given him advice only to die too. It was more of a tragedy than she wanted to consider.

It only made it all the more painful.

She clutched her chest with one hand and Pan with the other.

"We never got to tell him how much he meant to us." Her words came out hoarse, barely audible in the choking silence of her bare room. Shadows flickered across the walls like ghosts as she glanced about with raw, tear stained eyes. It was so cold. She shivered and wrapped them in her blankets.

It was as if the warmth had flickered from her life when she lost everyone.

She had wanted a life with them. She had wanted a life with Lee in it. One of adventure and exploration and days in his airship. Snarking back and forth to each other before grinning and laughing.

She'd never have it. All she had was the memories. So few, as well. She hadn't gotten nearly enough time with him. It had been so fleeting, gone like the blink of the eye.

One moment he was there, the next he was gone.

He had impacted her life irrevocably. She would never want that to change no matter how short it had been. How painful it had been. She would never wish him out of her life just so it was a little easier.

She missed him so much that it hurt her, choked her, as if a thousand knives stabbed into her chest. Pan felt it too, whimpering with her as they were ripped out of another nightmare of his death. They could only imagine how it had gone. And how her mind liked to imagine it, in the night terrors.

If only she had seen him again.

_She wished Will hadn't gone back to his world._

She missed him so intensely that everyday felt like a struggle. Oftentimes she thought it would have been better to go with him. To risk the quickened aging and shorter lifespan. Anything for just a few more years with him. More laughs, more moments, more time.

Surely it was better to have a few short and happy years than a stretched out lifetime of empty melancholy?

They would find each other again, she vowed. It was the only thing that kept her going along the dark and endless path. One day she would learn how to cross between the worlds without the need for windows. Her father had managed to learn so surely she could too.

But it frustrated her more and more as she did not know how to start. Years had passed and she was no closer to the goal.

She was no closer to being with Will.

It was difficult to keep up the tiny flicker of hope as she felt her dreams spinning further away. Doubt weighed her down, so heavy as it crushed her. She would never manage it. She would never see him again.

Pan felt the loss as heavily as she did. Kirjava was as much his soulmate as Will was hers. And they had been torn from each other in a cruel twist of fate. Oh how she lamented it. She cursed the fates, she cursed the cruel machinations that had pushed her to this life.

Surely after everything she had done she deserved happiness?

She deserved to be with the one person she had left. Was that really too much to ask?

She wondered if Will felt the same as her. If he stared wistfully into the sky hoping it would open up and lead to her. If he walked along the edges of buildings, tempting fate to take her back to a place they had visited together. If he had hunted far and wide for a sign of a window still open even when he knew it was pointless.

She hoped so.

She visited the bench when they'd agreed to. She visited it more than they'd agreed. There she could pretend everything was alright.

She would imagine him there with her, hand in hers as his other gently caressed her cheeks. They would kiss and hug and just relish in each others warmth. Pan and Kirjava twisted together on their entwined legs. All connected, all one.

She could imagine it but she could never have it.

"We'll make it one day," Pan interrupted her dark thoughts even as he had many of his own. "One of us will get to the other."

"I know," Lyra replied, for she still desperately held onto the hope that they would. "Nothing can keep us apart forever. Nothing. We'll find a way."

"We always do."

Lyra smiled even as her breathing was sharp through her chest and her body shook with loss. She felt the lack of Will the sharpest. He was still here, living in this vast multiverse.

So close yet so far. Unobtainable.

She thought sometimes that perhaps she could feel him as she touched the world around her, places that could once connected her world to his. One day he would appear and hold out his hand to her. He would rescue her through a window as he always had. They would tumble towards a happy life together.

One day. One day they would be reunited.

The hope, as feeble as it felt, was all they had to keep going.

But every day without him hurt more. Every step forward felt like a step away from him. They kept going because they had to. They had each other still, they clung to each other so desperately even though they knew they had lost half of themselves. For Lyra and Pan may be two halves of a soul but Will and Kirjava were the ones who had truly made them whole. The missing pieces in a broken puzzle.

But they were gone.

And it was just Lyra and Pan, Pan and Lyra, as it had always been.

Broken together.

_She wished she had said goodbye to her Father._

If only they had been able to talk again. She carefully picked up the book again as all the thoughts spilled from her lips, faint murmurs caressing the writing of the father she yearned for.

"I forgive you," she whispered, pressing her lips against the journal.

And then Lyra truly broke down, crying for the childhood she lost and the family she would never have.

_Maybe I always knew_  
_My fragile dreams would be broken for you_


End file.
